


The Lighthouse Keeper

by TheZ1337



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Hux is a cumdumpster, Idiots in Love, Lighthouses, M/M, Softcore Porn, Top Kylo Ren, this is a cumdump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-24 16:33:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10745559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheZ1337/pseuds/TheZ1337
Summary: Armitage Hux is a genteel Lightouse Keeper in 1950's Ireland. When a body washes up on shore that's none other than the seafarer and merchant Ben Solo, whose barely conscious, Armitage nurses him back to health. A storm batters the solitary light house and the men are forced to bunker down until it blows over.





	1. Chapter 1

A cold northerly wind consistently collided with a warm westward swell which created a harsh climate just north of Gallway, Ireland. The Northern Atlantic current brought crashing waves against the coast and left towns cowering behind brick walls as they waited for each storm to blow over. In one such small town, a four-story light house had been erected to warn seafarers when they were getting too close to land. The light house was connected to a small, two-bedroom home with a single fireplace.

The light house had recently come under the care of an outcast of society. It made sense as the Oxford-trained, bastard son of a WWII veteran who was deported back to his home country (under dubious circumstances) of Ireland proper. He lived alone without a wife or children, and while the nearby townsfolk thought it was peculiar, they paid no mind to the mild-mannered Lighthouse Keeper.

Armitage Hux had a cozy life on the very edge of the Irish countryside. He may have had bright red hair like the rest of the townsfolk, but he had an unmistakable, proper British accent. The man who'd hired him came around once a year near Christmas to give him a small bonus and share a light drink. Then he would be left to his own devices. Every morning he woke up to turn out the light to save on kerosene, then he'd take the four flights of stairs up every evening to turn the light back on. If there was a storm, which there were plenty, the light never went out.

Armitage rode his bike in to town once a week for supplies, and was always kind to the owner of the General Store. It doubled as the post office, and he received a letter every few months, usually from his father or an old friend from Oxford. He received a monthly newsletter from his alma mater and several scholarly books on the study of maths and astrology, and he even liked to brush up on his latin from time to time.

He spent his days in monastic solitude. But it suited him just fine. While he longed for the scholarly life, it came with too much turmoil and inspection. After bringing shame to his father when he was deported for "lewd and lascivious acts in public" with his boyfriend, he wanted nothing more than to be left alone. He continued his scholarly studies post-graduation of course, writing every afternoon in a notebook to gather his thoughts for an article he promised to publish one day.

He also played the violin and liked to fancy himself a grand composer, though his songs were slow to produce mostly due to the fact that it took months to get a new string when he broke one. He played solitaire with himself and missed all his records; he couldn't name Elvis Presley's new songs, and missed Guy Mitchell's records most of all. That's right, it was the era of the housewives and for this lone invert, and the 50's were passing without interruption.

He went out each day for a walk along the shore, enjoying how the sand changed over time depending on the season. He even scored a few bottles of bootleg liquor that fell off passing vessels. One such morning he woke up to a great surprise; there had been a shipwreck.

Not great for the crew of course, but great for Armitage because somewhere out in the Atlantic ocean a ship had capsized, which meant some of its contents washed up on Armitage's beach. He put on a light sweater since the seasons were changing but the temperature had been warmer than normal. He strapped on his mud boots, and made his way out to the trail he'd blazed in the rocks with a small wagon in towe. He smoked a pipe as he went and reflected on the fact that this tobacco tasted much better than his previous purchase from the General Store.

He wound his way down the shallow cliffside, glancing back up at the towering light house with its adjoining home. He smiled, then squinted out to the sea. He got down to the sand and trounced over it, putting his pipe down in the wagon. He walked over to a bit of the boat that had washed ashore, probably part of the mast. For the most part though it was canvas and cloth; he picked up a burlap sack that would be quite useful once it was dried out.

To Armitage's luck, he picked up a full, still-sealed bottle of liquor. There was no label, which meant it was most likely some sort of home brew. He put it in the wagon and continued on his way. Halfway down the beach he noticed a Jacobs’s ladder of rope that had washed ashore. It had some seaweed tangled with it, but he knew it most likely held a small treasure trove of trinkets. He walked over and parked the wagon a few feet away. 

With a little bit of lift from his legs, he pulled the netting away. That was when he saw it, half covered in seaweed -a human body face-down in the mud. His eyes widened as he dropped the webbing; bodies never washed ashore. He assumed they were always eaten by the fish before they got ashore; he'd have to call the local constable to come and take a look.

But this was the 1950's, they knew nothing about crime scenes. So Armitage walked gingerly to the body and pushed it over. The pale face of a man was streaked with thick black hair that stuck with salt water. He brushed back the hair to observe a large mole above the man’s left eye, his broad lips set slightly awkward on his relaxed face and he wore a simple sweater over a button up and slacks. Armitage noticed he was missing a shoe.

Just as he pushed his two fingers up to the man’s jugular to feel for a pulse, the man rolled over with a harsh cough. Armitage stepped back, and the man sputtered and coughed up salt water. Armitage reckoned it had to be gallons. Then Ben Solo began to puke.

He threw up everything in his stomach, which happened to be more salt water. He heaved, got up on all fours, and threw up some more. Armitage watched, slightly aghast and slightly disgusted. Ben's arms shook as he held himself up, the smell of saltwater pungent in his nose as he emptied his insides. Finally when he was finished, he felt a soft cloth pressed against his mouth. He looked up to see the face of an angel.

Pure white skin, soft, plump lips and kind blue eyes were all part of the man who was gently pressing a handkerchief against his mouth. The man put a hand on his shoulder, "Calmly. You're okay."

Kylo's body slumped, and Armitage barely caught him from falling over on the sand into his own mess. Armitage decided that was all the scavenging he would do for the day as he wiped up the man’s face and dragged him to the wagon. He packed another pipe bowl, lit it, and pulled the man back to the lighthouse. It would have been a curious sight for anybody watching; an Irishman smoking a pipe, towing a wagon with a man whose legs dragged behind because he was too large for it.

Once indoors, Armitage took care to undress the mystery man and dry his hair. He dressed the man in a pair of long underwear that was too short, and an undershirt whose sleeves didn't fully cover his wrists. Then he hoisted the man into his bed, added a log to the fire, and went to make some stew.


	2. Chapter 2

Several hours later, Ben woke up. The first thing he felt was heat; _why is it so damned hot?_  He groaned and instinctively kicked his feet down. He pushed the blankets away, gasping for fresh air. He found it near his face, then roughly pushed the blankets off of him. He took a deep breath but all he tasted was salt. He groaned again, his mouth dry and nostrils filled with the scent of the sea.

He looked over to see a fire crackling in the room to his right, and beyond that was a darkened window that told him it was night outside. Ben looked over to his other side and saw a tin cup on the bedside table. He crawled over since he was in the middle of the bed and gulped it down greedily. The fresh, cold water was a great relief as he glugged it down, taking a deep breath afterwards.

Just then his angel, a man he recognized from what he'd thought was a dream walked in. "Good evening," the mans voice was gentle, and he offered Ben a small smile. "I'm glad to see you're up."

Ben laid back with a groan, and pulled the blanket up to cover himself again. Armitage took a few steps back, to open the door more which allowed the warm air from the fireplace into the room. "My name's Armitage, you're in Elathmoore, just north of Gallway."

"Gallway?"

Armitage nodded, "Ireland."

"Ireland," the man repeated. Armitage smiled.

"Where were you supposed to make port?"

"Dublin."

Armitage raised his eyebrows, "Well my friend, you're a far way from Dublin. It's on the other side of the island. You must have gotten blown off course."

Ben nodded and tried to sit up. Armitage put a hand on his shoulder, "You should rest. I'll get you some more water. I just put the stew on, it should be ready in a few minutes."

Ben nodded and laid back down. He watched the man leave the room, watched him place a hand softly on the door frame as he went back out to the joint kitchen/living room. Then Ben looked around the bedroom. 

It was simple with a double bed topped with two wool blankets and one he was fairly certain was sheeps fur. There was a chair in the corner, a simple dresser against one wall and a claw-footed mirror in the other corner that looked ancient. There was a rug on the stone floor that looked well kept, and each side of the bed had a gas lantern and a bedside table. He noted however that there was an electric light next to the doorway that buzzed away dull and yellow.

Armitage came back with a full tin of water, and a decanter that he put on the bedside table. Their fingers brushed together as he handed Ben the cup. "Here you go."

"Thank you." It was the first coherent words Ben said, and Armitage smiled as he pulled up the chair from the corner to sit next to the bed.

"What's your name?"

"Ben, Ben Solo. And you said you're, what was it?" Finally Ben sat up.

"Armitage Hux, I'm the Lighthouse Keeper."

Ben nodded, his brow creased as he stared at the comforter. "That makes sense."

Armitage nodded. "What boat were you on?"

"The St. Marie, it was a shipping vessel. Bringing up spices from the Indies."

"I see," Armitage nodded.

"Did you find anybody else?"

"Unfortunately, no. But you're lucky. We've had quite a few shipwrecks up here, but no bodies ever wash ashore, just debris."

"Lucky," Ben retorted sarcastically.

"Well, you're lucky I found you anyways."

"True. You said you're a Lighthouse Keeper?"

"Yup."

"And you just... find stuff that washes ashore?"

Armitage laughed, and the tension in Ben's shoulders seemed to melt. "Yes, it does seem that way."

"Is there a town nearby?"

"Oh yeah, we have a General Store and a Post Office. I figure, if you'd like we can walk in to town tomorrow and you can send a letter to your employer?"

"Yeah, that'd be good."

"Great. Well let me check the stew, and I'm sure after a good nights rest you'll be right as rain."

* * *

The cold woke Ben from a deep sleep. He'd been dreaming about their ship, about the storm they'd been blown in to and how they ran out of fuel. They'd fought the tide for hours and finally their motor petered out. They were left in God's hands, and He had been merciful only to Ben.

Ben looked over at the other room and barely saw a faint glow coming from the room. Just as he was about to stand up to tend to the fire, he saw a shadow cross the other room. Armitage had gotten up from the couch and started to tend to the fire.

Ben watched his silhouette hunched there, all alone by the dying embers. Armitage pressed his knee onto the fireplace bellow and added some more kindling, pressing down gently so as to not completely extinguish any flame that flickered to life. Ben watched Armitage blow into his hands, then rub them together as he got the fire going. He wondered why, if it was so cold, they didn't just sleep in the same bed.

It was plenty big enough for the two men to sleep without waking each other. And it was Armitage's home; Ben certainly didn't want him put out by a stranger. But the gears in Ben's mind started to turn. He noticed Armitage had no wife or children. He was obviously a University boy, and from Britain of all places. The British _never_  came to Ireland, ever. So why was he here, like a cast away, all alone in this cold little light house. Ben only realized why as he drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

The morning dawned a threatening red. Armitage debated whether he should turn out the light because, by the color of the sunrise and the clouds in the distance, a storm was quickly approaching. He decided to turn it out for a few hours; Mr. Snoke would already be unhappy with the amount of oil he'd used since his last visit.

Armitage put the kettle on, added more logs to the fire, and wrapped himself in a blanket as he waited for the sailor in the other room to wake up. He didn't have to wait long until Ben shuffled out of the room with a pair of wool socks and a sweater on that he'd found in the dresser. Armitage looked up and smiled; he noted that Ben had beautiful bedhead. Ben sat down next to him on the couch, shivering slightly.

"Morning," Ben muttered. He'd never been a morning person.

"Good Morning," Armitage said cheerfully. "How do you feel?"

"Better, thanks."

"It's really no problem. Can I get you a cup of tea?"

"That would be _lovely_ ," he teased in an English accent. Armitage laughed and got up, unwrapped himself from the blanket that he draped over the back of the couch. Ben watched him in long johns and an oversize sweater, his socks pushed down to his ankles. He watched Armitage wiggle his toes in the wool socks as he stood near the stove, pouring out two cups of hot water into some loose leaf tea.

"So I was thinking," Armitage interrupted Ben's thoughts. "It looks like a storm is coming in, probably the one that blew you off course. Maybe we should wait until it wears itself out to go to town. The storms in this area seem to come in fast and can take us by surprise if we're on the road when the rain starts. Do you take honey in your tea?"

"That's- oh yes, yeah. Just a little, thanks. That sounds like a good idea. I mean you know the area better than me."

Armitage added a small helping of honey to each mug and Ben continued, watching him over the back of the couch. "Do you think we could go back down to the beach, maybe scavenge some stuff? I want to see what all is left down there."

Armitage went back to the couch and handed the hot mug to Ben who took it in both hands. Armitage blew on the tea, and Ben noticed it didn't come with a saucer. "Sure, that might be a good idea before the storm comes. It should only be a day or two, they usually exhaust themselves before too long." They sat on the couch, blowing on and sipping on their tea in relative silence.

* * *

After a breakfast of cheese on toast, they got dressed to go out to the beach. Armitage lent Ben the sweater he'd worn to sleep in; the sleeves were long enough but the waist was a bit too short. Ben pulled up socks to cover the cuffs of his pants which were too short as well, and the pair of Armitage's fathers old army boots. They were one of the only things Brendol had sent with Armitage as he'd been shipped off, because "Every man needs a good pair of boots." They were two sizes too big for Armitage, but they fit Ben just right.

They shared the pipe as they walked down to the beach, Armitage towing the wagon over Ben's protest. The least he could do was pull the wagon for the man who'd dragged him out of the sea. They scoured the beach and found several items; a shattered hand mirror, the keys from one of the deckhands, a water logged mapping chart and several broken bottles. There wasn't much of value, and definitely no bodies. 

Armitage watched Ben stare out at the water as if waiting to see his coworkers, his _friends_ , walking out of the water. Or maybe, Armitage wondered, he'd hope to see the boat simply float out of the endless expanse of water, captain and crew all on board, incensed that they'd had to come find Ben after he got washed overboard. Armitage poked at a chunk of seaweed with a stick he'd found. They made their way back up to the lighthouse and got inside just as it began to drizzle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok hold onto your panties, here we go!

The wind howled as the storm buffeted the lighthouse. Armitage had lit the lantern the moment they got back to the lighthouse, and now it was well after dark and the storm raged around them. They'd had a simple dinner of stew cut with more potatoes than Ben would have preferred, but he reminded himself that Armitage only stocked his pantry for one, and now he was feeding two. They'd played several games of backgammon much to Armitage's delight now that he had a second person to play against.

They went to bed shortly after the skyline turned black, and now they were both tucked in their respective beds as the ocean tried to unsettle the light house from its position. In the night, Ben woke when Armitage got up to add more logs to the fire. They were stacked to the ceiling in the hallway between the house and the light house, which kept them dry and well out of the way.

Again he listened to and watched Armitage stoke the fire. He waited until Armitage got back under the covers on the couch to start thinking. They were here for atleast another day, so that meant two nights including tonight. They wouldn't be able to leave the warmth of the house, and it was obvious to Ben as to why Armitage was alone. He knew Armitage would probably never have another guest in his house, so Ben kicked off the covers.

He got up and padded quietly to the living room. He saw Armitage curled up under covers, facing the roaring fire. He looked like he was asleep. Ben walked past him to the small bathroom to relieve himself. Afterwards, he put himself back in his pants, and was glad to see that the lighthouse had real indoor plumbing. He washed his hands and stopped in the doorway. He paused, lingered, then went to Armitage.

He knelt down silently in front of the man and stared at his face. Ben was right to think of him like an angel, bringing light to the world. In the glow and shadows cast by the fire, he looked almost like a child, a small cherub with a round face and chubby cheeks. Ben leaned down, and pressed his lips softly against his saviors'.

Armitage woke up immediately, eyelids pressing together hard as he kissed back soft. He inhaled, then pulled back. He opened his sleepy eyes to see Ben hovering above him, and then he felt Ben push back the warm blanket.

"What're you-?"

"Shhh," Ben cut him off as he whispered, a log in the fireplace popping. Ben laid down on Armitage, pressing his hips into his once before he slipped a hand below his waist line. Armitage was flacid, but not for long. He kissed Ben back soft and sweet, his tongue _searching_ out for Ben's.

Ben pressed the palm of his hand over Armitage's tip teasingly, then pressed back the casing. He touched him slowly, Armitage's hand tangling in Ben's loose hair. Finally Ben released him and got up.

"Where are you-"

"Shhh," Ben cut him off again and Armitage frowned. Now he was confused. Ben disappeared into the dark bathroom. He'd seen a jar of Vaseline in there earlier in the day and searched for it, poking around in the pitch black. He found it, feeling the familiar lid design and went back to the couch.

Armitage pushed down his pants to his ankles and made to sit up but then Ben kissed him back down into the couch. Armitage sank back into the cushions and felt Ben's hand around him again.

"Ah-" he broke the kiss to moan, feeling the slickness of Ben's palm. Then Ben began to move his hand up and down, pressing down all the way, then twisting back up. Ben slipped a leg between Armitage's, his other leg bracing himself on the floor.

Armitage kissed Ben, his foreign touch a welcome relief. He moved his hips slightly, thrusting up into Ben's hand which grew _painfully tighter_. Ben broke the kiss to suck on Armitage's neck. He turned his head to allow Ben better access, then gasped.

"Don't stop," he whispered into the night.

"I don't plan to," Ben chuckled, his voice impossibly deep as he whispered in Armitage's ear.

"Oh-" Just then Armitage moaned and Ben stroked him all the way down. His pleasure flared up as he came, Ben's hand giving him three of four quick strokes at his tip. Armitage tilted his head back as the pleasure washed over him almost as violently as the storm outside.

As soon as he inhaled a hiss of air Ben let him go, removing his hand from Armitage's cock which twitched hot, and red, and wet. He rested his slick hand on the couch, and used the other to stroke Armitage's cheek.

The boy still looked angelic, eyes opening to look at Ben, his lips parted in a circle post-orgasm. He exhaled, "How did you know?" One of Armitage's hands was wrapped around Ben's shoulders, the other hung loosely off the couch.

"It wasn't hard to put together," Ben shifted. The couch was much too small for them both. "You, here, alone. No family. College educated."

"Mmm," Armitage nodded and closed his eyes. He bit his lip, saving the last bits of pleasure that rolled off of him. "It's the accent, isn't it?"

"Mmhmm," Ben leaned up and kissed Armitage's cheek. He smiled.

"And you? You're a sailor."

"Of course I'm, well, yeah. I signed on to get away from my family, save them the embarrassment and all that."

Armitage nodded and let out a satisfied sigh. Ben sat up. "Don't fall asleep."

Armitage opened his eyes and looked up at Ben. "Oh sorry. For a second I thought this was all a dream."

They shifted on the couch, then Ben got up. He held out a hand to Armitage who took it and got to his feet. He kicked off the rest of his pants and followed Ben back into the bedroom.


	5. Chapter 5

Ben kissed Armitage onto the bed, crawling ontop of him. Armitage backed up on the bed until Ben slipped between his legs. There Ben nibbled on his bottom lip, a hand on his cheek which elicited a moan. Armitage spread his legs around Ben whose hips fit into his own like a puzzle piece. Ben humped him _slowly_ , a leg pushed up against his ass cheek as he kissed the light house keeper.

It had been forever since Ben was able to spend a full night in a mans bad, a man he could trust so he took full advantage of it. After he was thoroughly pleased with the amount of time he'd spent kissing his new lover, he sat up. 

Ben pulled off his shirt, then rolled Armitage over to pull his shirt off. He let out a small squeak but rolled on top of Ben without a fuss. Then he leaned down to kiss Ben who sat up and met his all-too-eager lips. Slowly he pushed Armitage out of his lap.

"What?" Armitage asked.

"Wait here," Ben said. He cleared his throat, the addams apple settling into an _impossibly deep_  tone. Armitage used this moment to his advantage, and lit one of the lamps on the bedside table. When Ben got back, he put the jar next to the light, raising an eyebrow.

"I want to see you," Armitage said shyly. Ben turned his eyes to Hux and his throat tightened. The boy was impossibly pale with a slim waist and weak arms. His hip bones jutted out like the side of a cliff and the curves over his stomach was as smooth as rippling water. His skin looked so soft he could just devour it, _and maybe he would_. If they were going to be stuck here for days, that gave Ben enough time to kiss Armitage all over, atleast twice.

"Don't you ever eat?" Ben asked as he slotted himself between Armitage's legs again.

"It's what happens to an Irishman when he doesn't drink. He wastes away to nothing," Armitage joked.

"You drink, I saw that bottle on the table."

"That's from a shipwreck, its still unopened."

Ben rolled them onto their sides. He slid his hand over Armitage's lower back and between. He let slick fingers press against the little dip that led to _so many_ possibilities. He pressed a finger, exploring but not entering. Armitage curled one hand up to his chest, the thumb of his other hand stroking Ben's temple.

Armitage nuzzled his nose against Ben's and Ben couldn't help but smile. Armitage stole his smile with a kiss, but Ben broke away from it.

"Is this alright?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?" Ben repositioned his hand, pushing open Armitage with a thumb but still he didn't enter him.

"Oh yeah." Now it was Armitage's turn to hush Ben in a kiss, and Ben pressed in his index finger.

Armitage hummed into the kiss, his pucker warm and welcoming to Ben's single digit. Ben's fingers were _impossibly long_ , and Armitage gasped when Ben's finger finally stopped. Then he reached down between and opened his eyes when he felt how hard Ben was; he was enormous. Armitage knew Ben was a few inches taller than himself, but that didn't make up for the girth of what Armitage stroked in his hand. He shivered at the thought, and the anticipation he felt for it.

Ben slipped in another finger and Armitage pressed himself against Ben, moaning soft against his lips. Ben pressed his fingers in and out, spreading Armitage open. As Armitage's fingers, so small and thin, stroked  Ben steadily, he wondered if he should use another finger. But that always made this awkward, and he wouldn't be able to get them in as deep. He decided to stop thinking and find out just how experienced this Oxford educated scholar truly was.

He pulled his fingers out and rolled over onto Armitage. He stole a kiss to Armitage's shoulder, which he was glad to notice was freckled, as he applied more lube to himself. His hands were trembling as he prepared himself, and Armitage wriggled under him. His cock was raised heavy off of his stomach, red and peeking out from its sheath, eager and just _begging_ to be touched again.

Tracing a finger up his thigh, Ben positioned himself. Armitage  pulled down a pillow under his lower back, a hand on top of Ben's on the back of his knee. He bit his lip and Ben looked down at what he was doing, then back up. He looked uncertain, but Armitage was abjectly shaking with anticipation.

Ben pressed his tip slowly against Armitage's dark little flower, pausing for a moment. Then he pushed in. Armitage took a deep breath, arched his back a bit, then Ben pressed in more. Armitage bit back a hiss and put a hand on Ben's hip and Ben stopped. Then Armitage nodded, and Ben continued. 

Armitage gasped and threw his hand over his head where he spread the flat of his palm against the wall. He pushed himself down more onto Ben who watched Armitage's face explode in a pink blush as he bit the left side of his bottom lip hard.

Ben was so _thick,_ he spread Armitage wide and Armitage slipped right over him like the perfect fit. Armitage wanted to take all of him, to never let him out of his bed if it was always going to feel like this. Ben was so hard, Armitage realized it must have been  _painful_ forhim to wait so long while he'd been touching Armitage.

Ben pulled out, the drag eliciting another moan as Armitage arched his back further. Then he threw his arms over Ben's shoulders as Ben pushed back in, farther this time. Ben drummed up a steady pace, kissing Armitage's neck while the boy crooned under him.

He was breathing soft as ocean spray as they swayed together. Warm sheeps' fur below them and body heat between them kept them warm. Ben cradled Hux as he worked steadily, listening to the man sigh. Armitage's sounds were so quiet, almost like a breath on the wind in his ear. Ben felt rough in comparison to Armitage's silky skin, porcelain white against his vicious tan.

Ben sunk into Armitage as deep as he could, Armitage's body _rocked_ back and forth like a boat tossed at sea. When Ben bottomed out Armitage threw his head back; he couldn't hold on anymore. He let a hand fall to the side, fingers on his other hand twisting in Ben's hair as the pleasure washed over him again. He didn't know when Ben had started to touch him, that large, calloused hand tight around him. He was silent as he came again, Ben giving him a few deep thrusts and good twists of his tip to make sure this was all well worth it.

When Ben pulled out to give Armitage a break, he looked _deliciously_  spent. His body lay heavy on the bed, left knee barely bent while the other leg still wrapped around Ben to keep him caged. Ben mired down at Armitage whose eyes moved furiously under closed eyelids as he tried to gain his bearings.

Ben watched his face, watched the blush slowly clear and was there when his eyes finally opened. Armitage visibly shivered.

"Cold?"

"No," Armitage leaned up and kissed Ben softly. Then he let Ben go, dropping his legs to the bed. Ben rolled over next to Armitage whose chest rose and fell in soft heaves. He wiggled his toes, groaned, then rolled over onto his side to face Ben. But Ben shoved him over, forcing him to roll the other way.

"Hmm?" Armitage asked lazily. Ben wrapped an arm under Armitage, letting it be pinned there as he pulled Armitage close with his back to Ben's front. Ben bent his legs at the knee, the tops of his against the bottoms of Armitage's. Then he began to stroke one out. Armitage let him get away with it for a few seconds before he reached a hand back over to him.

"I can go again, I just need... I need a minute."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," Ben could hear the smile in his voice.

"Okay."


	6. Chapter 6

In the morning, the storm was still raging. Armitage knew they wouldn't be able to walk to town today. He got up and slipped on his long underwear, shivering in the cold house. He went to the fire and stoked it, spending a good 20 minutes getting it going again. After he was certain it would stay lit and catch, he went to make tea.

The screaming kettle woke Ben up. He groaned into existence, and stretched wide. He reached as far as he could under the blankets, eyes still closed. But when he didn't feel Armitage there, he opened his eyes and looked over. He took a deep breath of the cold air and pulled the blankets all the way up to his chin.

Just then Armitage walked back into the bedroom, and put the steaming cup of tea on the bedside table. The light that came in from the window was a dull grey and barely enough to tell them it was morning. Armitage stripped off his bottoms and slid back under the covers. Then he cupped the mug in both hands and blew on it.

"You and you're tea," Ben muttered.

"You drink tea too, I've seen you," Armitage chuckled as Ben rolled over to face him.

"I could warm you up better than that cup, you know."

Armitage hummed as if he had to think about it. Then he put the cup of tea down and pulled off his shirt. He shivered and snuggled up under the covers into Ben's arms. Armitage didn't realize how cold he'd be after simply getting out of bed for a little while, and he briefly lamented the fact that his tea would be cold by the time this was over. Then he found Ben's lips under the sheets.

* * *

Two fresh, hot cups of tea were poured and the two men in the lighthouse sat on the couch infront of the fire, warming their toes. The fire had warmed up the house substantially, but the chill from outside still crept into the corners.

"So the storms are pretty bad on this side of the island?"

Armitage nodded and took a small, quiet sip of his steaming hot mug. "Yeah, but this one's nothing. You should have been here last year, we had a few record breakers."

_If I was here last year, I'd have never left_ , Ben said in a silent prayer. He sipped his tea. "Wanna go out in it?"

Armitage looked at Ben. "What?"

"Come on. You're always inside when they pass, why not go outside in one?"

"I've been caught in a few, no thank you."  
"Oh come on. You'd be with me, just for a few minutes."  
"Nope."

"I dare you."

Armitage laughed and shook his head. "You couldn't pay me all the money in the world to go out there."

Ben's lips curled up in a mischievous smile, "You Irishmen are the bettin' kind, arent'cha?" To this Armitage laughed again. "So I'll make you a bet."

"Okay, what's the bet?" He asked sarcastically.

"If I can get you off three more times before nightfall, we go out there for five minutes."

Armitage froze, staring at his cup. The thought was tantilizing, a promise of many more orgasms, but also the threat of the storm outside. It was a lose lose situation for him. "Okay, fine."

"Great," Ben leaned over to kiss him but Armitage pushed him away. "Hey, you already spoiled my first cup of tea. Atleast let me enjoy my second.

Ben laughed, deep and quiet, "Okay, alright. Drink your tea, then I'll fuck you."

* * *

The need was too much. Ben let them finish half the cup before he set his down on the floor, and nuzzled up to Armitage.

"Hey, I'm not done," he said defensively.

"Yes you are," Ben took the cup from Armitage who pouted loudly. But Ben's kiss softened his pouty bottom lip. Ben put a hand on the back of Armitage's thigh, and yanked, effectively pulling his ass forward and throwing him onto his back. Armitage wrapped his arms around Ben and spread his legs willingly.

Ben dry humped Armitage, who was already getting worked up in his pants. Ben could feel him hardening against him, each man only wearing long underwear normally worn under clothes.

Ben was enamoured with Armitage's lips, whose perfect cupids bow puckered out when he was in the throwes of an extrordinarily good fuck. He wanted to see it again, to watch his ginger, outcast savior in the throwes of passion. He wanted to fuck him until tomorrow.  Alas, he would do it until he couldn't on the couch where it all started, and then get to go run in the rain.

He got Armitage's pants off, and cupped his balls. Ben squeezed gently and stroked a thumb between them, into the soft, loose flesh there. Armitage sucked on his bottom lip, holding him close. Then Ben pressed his thumb up to the base of Armitage's dick, and trailed up the length of his shaft. As he got to the tip, Armi moaned into their kiss, barely breaking it.

An hour later, Armitage was torn apart. He got up to his hands and knees on the couch. He was shaking all over, even though they'd just taken a break and Ben hadn't touched him yet for this round.

Ben pressed his angry, purple tip against Armitage. He was as close to the brink as Armitage was, but he could hold it better. Ben pushed in, slipping easily into Armitage's abused hole. Armitage gasped and fell to his elbows, gripping the blanket he'd left on the couch.

He trembled under Ben's touch, but Ben was kind with a slow pace and a steady hand on Armitage's lower back.

"Oh my-" Armitage whispered into his fists that were balled up in front of him as Ben reached around and stroked him again. His hand was becoming familiar, and Armitage was getting used to being touched nearly constantly. Armitage was completely overwhelmed with warmth, his thighs weak. He was half floating and half still grounded, his eyes permanently lidded.

"Come for me," Ben whispered.

Armitage gasped and let go of the blankets with one hand. He pressed his palm flat against the side of the couch armrest and pressed himself all the way onto Ben. Armitage choked, he couldn't breathe; it was like he was drowned in the waves outside. Ben leaned over, his hand landing over top of Armitage's and Ben laced their fingers together. Armitage came again, a third and final time, though hardly anything came out. It was a small drop, barely enough to stain the blanket.

Suddenly with the little bits of strength that he had left, Ben wrapped an arm around Armitage's chest and hoisted him in to his lap. He lifted so Armitage's back was to his front, and he was set firmly in his lap, and all the way down on Ben.

The man who came up to sit in his lap wasn't the soft, quiet boy Ben had started out with. This Armitage heaved loudly, gasping for breath as he felt his chest rise and fall and forced Armitage to stay on him. "See what I can do to you, making you like this."

"Don't ever leave me," Armitage whispered through gritted teeth, his head falling back on Ben's shoulder. At that, Ben let him down and slipped Armitage off of him. Armitage landed on all fours with deep sigh; in a minute he wouldn't remember what he'd said in the heat of the moment.

"S-shit," Ben whispered and Armitage lowered himself on the couch, curling up with his forehead pressed into the  cushions, his knees pulled up to his chest.

Ben sat back, panting. His dick relaxed, growing smaller almost instantly. He couldn't go that much, but he had to prove a point. He sighed and looked over at Armitage who was shaking. He looked like he was going to fall to pieces. Ben reached over and put a hand on his waist.

"Relax," he whispered. Armitage let himself be pushed over onto his side, emotionally collapsing. What Ben didn't already know was that he'd already fallen to pieces and he was now barely a living, breathing creature. He was a ball of nerves, each inch of his skin sensitive to the touch.

"I can't-" Armitage panted. "I can't-"

"So don't. Just relax," Ben sighed and let his head fall back. That was the most rounds he'd ever done, ever. He suspected the same was true of Armitage. Ben smiled, "I win."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to walk again."

"You better, we still have to go run out in the rain."

"You're insatiable."

"No, its just been a while."


	7. Chapter 7

In the morning, Armitage woke blearily from sleep. He was warm and naked under the covers, and a small smile crept up his face. He sighed, the warmth in his gut growing but he felt comfort knowing he'd have Ben to help him relieve that. Just then his eyes opened and he gasped.

He propped himself up on his elbows, and looked down to see Ben nuzzling him, face between Armitage's legs.

"What are you doing down there?"

Ben shrugged, looking up at Armitage through dark lashes, his face innocent and unassuming. Then he slipped his lips over Armitage who realized his hardness had woken him up. Armitage groaned and laid back, shifting to open his legs. Ben spread his legs wider with a hand on each inner thigh, and he swirled his tongue around Armitage.

"Insatiable," Armitage whispered and Ben swallowed nearly all of him. It made him moan, which was the point and Ben felt a great sense of satisfaction as Armitage wriggled under his touch. He traced a finger up the little trail of hair going up to Armitage's belly button, stroking the soft red strands. Ben didn't stop until Armitage was gasping, grasping the sheets, heels dug into the mattress as he came. Only after that did they decide to wake up for the day.

* * *

 

They put on boots, sweaters and coats to go up to the top of the lighthouse; Armitage had to turn the light out. They walked through the hallway that attached the lighthouse to the house itself, past the stacks of logs and even though it was indoors, it was as cold as it was outside.

They got to the spiraling staircase and Armitage led the way. By the time they got to the top, Ben was panting. He stopped at the top step, a hand on either knee as he leaned forward and breathed deep.

"How do you... do that... every day?"

"Twice."

"Twice!... How?"

Armitage laughed as he walked around the light and dipped the wick back into the oil, effectively putting out the light for now. He stopped the reflective mirror from spinning, letting the metal cool down. "Practice, I suppose. I got used to it."

"I could never... never get used to it." Ben stretched up, making an over exaggerated sighing noise. Armitage laughed and walked to one of the windows. The entire room was circular with windows instead of walls. They were sturdy, but the room was still freezing cold. Ben walked up behind Armitage and wrapped an arm around him. Armitage smiled slightly.

"Nice view," Ben said.

"Yeah. Sometimes I can spot a boat out there."

"I bet the townsfolk love it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well you bring them up here, I'm sure, to see what's out there and such."

Armitage's brow furrowed, "No."

Ben paused, then kissed Armitage's neck. He realized Armitage didn't have any friends here, that he didn't bring anyone up to the lighthouse because he was an outcast. Ben sucked his neck.

"Hey, not here."

"Why not?" Ben muttered

Armitage scoffed, "Because, its, we're-"

"There's a bench."

"No way."

"Come on," Ben finally detached himself from Armitage's neck. "We've already performed all sorts of _depravity_ , what's one more act?"

Armitage scoffed again, swaying in Ben's arms. Ben pulled him to the bench and pressed him down onto it. Armitage squeaked, "But its freezing."

"So don't take your clothes off," he muttered into the kiss as he pulled Armitage's pants down just enough to allow him access. Ben began to stroke Armitage to silence his protest, his own groin pressing into Armitage's thigh to cause friction and get him hard.

He reached between Armitage's legs, and felt him still slick. They didn't have anything to use up here, so this would have to be quick. Ben unzipped his pants and pulled them down, lifting Armitage's knee and positioning him. Armitage lay on his back, though his hips were turned sideways, allowing Ben access if he stood behind Armitage. He pressed in, Armitage's arm around his waist, and Ben used one hand to cup the back of Armitage's hand to kiss him, the other braced next to Armitage's face on the bench. It was an awkward position for both, and when Ben pressed in, Armitage let out a quiet whine of protest.

"Shhh," Ben whispered and kissed Armitage to silence him. They rocked together, Ben instantly balls deep, barely even pulling out to press back in. He cradled Armitage's head since he didn't have a pillow, not wanting him to hurt his head on the stone bench. They swayed and Ben pressed silent kisses to Armitage's lips, their breath rising in the cold air, two bodies hot together. 

* * *

 

After lunch they went in to town. Ben figured he could send a telegraph to the next nearest post office which might have a telephone, and they could then call his employers. Ben wore the same clothes he'd been wearing for three days, and Armitage pulled the wagon behind him since he planned to do some shopping at the General Store.

"If you're going to be here for a while, we could order you a new sweater, maybe some pants that actually fit."

Ben laughed and nodded his head. He walked with his hands in his pockets, bracing himself against the wind. Armitage seemed to be unaffected by the temperature and the wind that blew against them. "That'd be a good idea. It might take a few days to get ahold of my boss."

"Well, in the meantime, you know you can stay with me as long as you like... as long as you need."

Ben looked at Armitage and saw the small twinge of sadness cross his face. He knew this was only temporary, and he realized Armitage knew it too. Ben nodded, "Thank you."

They walked in to a small town which consisted of the General Store and Post Office, as well as a hitching post for horses and one tavern. Armitage parked his wagon outside the store like he always did, and a little bell over the door rang as they walked in.

An older man with a large, burly beard and thick wool sweater stood behind a counter. The shelves behind him were lined with general provisions; flour, sugar, and butter. There were a few shelves with aisles in between stacked with canned goods, mostly meat and beans. The man perked up when Armitage and Ben walked in.

"'Afternoon, Armi."

"'Afternoon Rick. Hey I was wondering if you could help us. This is Ben, he washed up on shore just before that big storm we had."

"He what?" Rick gawked.

"Nice to meet you, Ben," Ben introduced himself and held out a hand.

Rick shook his hand, "Rick. You washed up on shore?"

"Yeah," Ben shrugged.

"That's some mighty fine luck you got, nobody washes up on our shores."

"Armitage mentioned that, yeah."

"We were hoping you could get a telegraph out to his employer, maybe over in Arkanis where they have a phone."  
"I can do ya one better, if ya like. I was planning on headin' out that way in a few minutes here," he turned to Ben. "I can take you there if you'd like, I'm sure you can even talk to yer boss yerself."

"Oh, um," he turned to look at Armitage who had a look of surprise on his face. "Sure, I mean, if that's alright," he looked back at Rick but was silently asking Armitage if it was okay if he left... right now.

Armitage just nodded, looking away, eyes scanning the cans of food.

"Sure is, I just offered it, didn't I? Let me get my cap, and hitch up the horse and we'll be on our way."  
Armitage bought what supplies he needed while Ben helped Rick with the horse and wooden wagon. Armitage filed his own wagon, and went around back to say his goodbye's. Ben looked up, having just finished attaching the horse and he stepped away as Rick tightened some bolts.

"Well,-"

"I hope-"

"Oh."

"No, you go."

"No, what were you going to say?"

They paused, then Armitage talked. He couldn't even look at Ben, looking over his shoulder at the horse which whinnied excitedly.

"I hope you get in touch with your boss."

"Yeah, me too."

Another awkward silence, and then Ben held out his hand. "Well thanks for the rescue, you know, and all that..."

"No problem," Armitage reached out and shook Ben's hand. It was stiff. Finally he made eye contact with Ben, and Ben could see how heartbroken Armitage was. He was heartbroken too, though not as much. He was going back to his life, back to work and everything he knew. But for Armitage, this was his life, and Ben had been a small bright spot blinking through the fog. They didn't hug, they didn't say bye. Armitage walked back to the lighthouse alone, towing his little wagon as he stared at the impending tower that got closer.

He didn't really process that Ben was gone until he opened the front door to the lighthouse. Two empty mugs of tea sat on the counter, the blanket on the couch was still disheveled. A half cut potato lay on the counter, the pot of soup cold but without a lid. The bed was still unmade, the backgammon was still laid out on the table. Armitage scanned the room, a little bit of his own light blinking out as he sunk back into his solitary existence. It took him weeks to get over Ben.


	8. Chapter 8

The wet season was over, and summer was just about over too. It was a hot day, almost 60 degrees fahrenheit. Armitage pulled on a tshirt, glad to have an excuse to ride his bike out in the fresh air. His bicycle had a small basket on the front, and he planned to go in to town for supplies, and then stop at the field he always walked through to pick some flowers. Maybe he could find some sage and dry it for later. It had been almost six months since Ben left and he hadn't written so much as a thank you note.

Armitage rode his bike down the narrow lane; he'd been trying to tread over the sides to widen the path but it was a constant battle against mother nature. The wind was crisp and fresh, the smell of fish and salt water a constant. He peddled slowly, in no rush since he had all day to spend traversing the Irish countryside. The sky was clear and the ocean waves roared far off as his tires spun over dirt and grass.

Halfway to town, he saw a figure on the path ahead of him. He squinted and rode closer; there was only one thing out this way, and that was his little lighthouse. Nobody ever walked on the path tot he lighthouse except himself, and maybe the parish priest or his boss. But it wasn't the time of year for either of them to visit. As he got closer, he stopped his bike, setting a foot on the ground.

The man up ahead on the path held a hand over his head and waved once. The black hair was unmistakeable, the walk familiar. Armitage got off his bike, tossed it down and began to run towards Ben.

Ben dropped the rucksack he had over his shoulder, a broad smile on his face as he ran towards Armitage. They collided like day against night, Ben wrapping Armitage up in his arms and swept him off his feet, spinning him around. Ben silenced Armitage's laughs with a hard kiss, setting him back down on his feet but not letting him out of his arms. Armitage wrapped his arms around Ben's shoulders and they kissed for a solid thirty seconds.

Finally Armitage pulled out of the kiss, a broad smile on his face. "Why are you here? What happened?"

"I was contracted to the boat, not the company. Without the boat... there was no contract."

"But you said it was for two years."

"I thought it was too, but like I said, no boat, no contract. I would have come sooner, but there was some legal stuff, paperwork, whatever. It doesn't matter because I'm here now," he kissed Armitage again who let out a childish squeal. Ben pulled out of the kiss to whisper, "And I'm never leaving."

**Author's Note:**

> I also have a [tumblr](https://thez1337.tumblr.com/), feel free to stop by and say hi or drop me a drabble


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